


The Adventures of Alfred & Co.

by ARtistic_Nacho



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bodyguard, Fluff, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), Humor, One Shot, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARtistic_Nacho/pseuds/ARtistic_Nacho
Summary: This will be a big book of one-shots based off of Tumblr posts of concepts.
Kudos: 2





	The Adventures of Alfred & Co.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this, and I can't wait to see where this goes : )  
> This chapter features: America, France, Germany, and Canda  
> I based this chapter off of this post:  
> https://ifunny.co/picture/fruksexual-hetalia-au-where-everything-is-the-same-except-the-AWkVG2Wg4  
> https://waitineedaname.tumblr.com/post/113478105052/fruksexual-officialnordic-hetalia-au-where  
> This was the only way I could credit the tumblr blogs since they are both disabled.

Alfred was what his boss would call… mischievous. He refused to back down from anything he perceived as a “challenge” even if the president himself intervenes. That leaves Alfred here, in Columbus, Georgia, sprinting full speed trying to escape from his so-called “protective services.”

Before he could turn down the next street, one of his bodyguards grabbed him by the arm, trying to reason with him,

“Mr. Jones, please,” the man said, desperation in his voice. “We are just doing our job. We can’t help that the UN issued national protection for you and the others!”

Looking over his shoulder, Alfred could see a few more guards round the corner, catching up quickly. He shrugged his shoulders and looked poor Mr. Banks in the eyes. The guard felt terrified as Alfred slowly turned around again, and promptly took off in a sprint once more, whooping as his unnatural super speed and strength caused the guards arm to be forcefully torn off Alfred.

His eyes sparkled in delight as he made a two fingered salute to the men in suits behind him. His brilliant eyes scanned his immediate surroundings, before back tracking on a single road sign.

After another 15 minutes of evading his underpaid guards, America noticed the Infantry museum ahead and immediately launched into the doors. His citizens looked concerned and kind of freaked out by the sudden appearance of a 19 year old. He looked around before hiding in one of the exhibits, pretending to be one of the soldiers army crawling up a mountain.

As soon as he got into position, his guards burst through the door, and America wasn’t sure if that was anger or pure hatred on their faces. Jim, his most temperamental guard was steaming at this point. It almost made him want to laugh. They stalked through the crowd, not even noticing Alfred due to the harsh blue lighting over the exhibit. He picked up on a portion of their conversation.

“I swear to fucking god, Bright, if this little smuck doesn’t come out of hiding, I will have an aneurism.” The taller of the two laughed, making Jim get angrier by the second. Bright’s hazel hues scanned the crowds once more, before settling on Alfred’s bomber jacket.

“Bull’s-eye,” Bright whispered.

It’s not like America was doing this to make them upset. No, that would be too cruel, even for him. That’s something his friend, Ivan, would do, and he’s nothing like that weird Slavic nation. He was tired of being controlled. Jim meant well (probably), but that didn’t mean he wasn’t being too harsh on the boy. Bright had to call him off from criticizing Alfred a lot today. America wasn’t having that, no sir. So, he did what any sane person would do, play another game of “keep away from the bratty overpaid bodyguards dudes.” It was only when Alfred felt a hand on his should that he let out a ~~squeak~~ manly yell.

“Jones,” Bright said, “I believe you owe us an apology.” Alfred sneered, “Nah.”

One phone call from the president later, you could see Alfred running away in the distance, laughing. Followed by three very winded guards, cursing their bad luck.

* * *

Francis Bonnefoy is many things, but self-controlling? No, quite the opposite, in fact. The country of love couldn’t keep his eyes off one of his recently assigned guards. Tall, but modest. Rude, but easily flustered. Proper, but guarded. The perfect guy, France couldn’t help but think. His choppy blond hair and dark emerald eyes sparkled in the window’s gaze as he observed his next prey. His bosses had to capture his attention once more, only enticing France to continue his mental undressing. Oh he could only imagine what his new little guard could be like.

Once the meeting was ended, Francis hastily stood, catching the attention of the people present. Slipping into his new overcoat, the one that complements his eyes rather well if you ask him, he makes his way to the newest addition to his “body guards.” Francis’s eyes glanced down at his target’s name tag, Laflamme.

“Bonjour, mon guardien,” France couldn’t help but notice the faint blush on the man’s face. The guard seemed hesitant to answer him, perhaps it was due to France’s intimidating nature? Oh, no, no, no, he couldn’t let that slide. He flipped his shoulder length hair, gracefully pulling it up into a ponytail, before speaking up once more.

“I see you are doing well your first day hear, non? Has everyone treated you well, beau?”

If you listened close, you could hear the sighs of anguish as the officials started to pour out of the room, knowing what was happening.

The guard once pale face began to flush, causing France to let out a laugh.

“Oui,” the guard responded, “They have treated me well, monsieur.”

“Oh hon hon, that’s well. Say, your name is Lafamme, non?” France could almost hear the eye rolls behind him, but he could care less. He kept his eyes on the prize, or, in this case, a furiously French guy in the middle of a conference room.

“Oui, monsieur, that is my name.” The guard’s thick brows scrunched up in confusion, almost making Francis lose his composure and squeal because holy baguette that was cute. Instead of having a squealing fit that would definitely end in crying, he simply smirked and cock his carefully shaped brows.

“Well, then I’ll just have to be careful when you’re in my bed, mon chèri.” Before the other could comprehend what his nation’s personification just told him, the other guards swooped in to rescue the man.

“Don’t pay attention to him, Laflamme. He has done that to all of us at some point,” spoke one of the longest standing guards, a broadly built German who has been tested day in and day out with France’s consistent-and rather smooth-flirting.

France just through his head back and laughed.

* * *

Germany couldn’t believe what he was being told. Bodyguards for one of the strongest countries? He thought not. His boss just shook his head before looking at the baffled German,

“Ludwig, I held this off for long enough, but the UN has been pushing for us to have persona; guards for our personifications due to the recent increase in terrorism.”

Germany rubbed his brow, not understanding the need for protection that would just get in his way.

“Of course, sir. If it would put you and the other leaders at ease.”

“Thank you for understanding, Germany. I know this is hard for you.”

Fast forward to a week with personal guards and Ludwig wants to punch something… or someone. Okay, he wants to punch Becker in the face. One of his three guards, Becker, is almost as incompetent as Italy, which is saying something. The fool couldn’t stand at attention during his meetings, he couldn’t be observant for the life of him, and he definitely couldn’t protect him from any incoming threat, such as another nation or armed men.

This epiphany led the German to one of his many boot camps for his soldiers, also known as his backyard. His three body guards are lined up in a detail, awaiting whatever their nation was going to say to them. Germany looks at them as he marched towards them, intending to only criticize one guard. He halted and faced the slightly terrified men.

“You may be wondering why I made you fall into a detail,” Ludwig began, looking at each face as he continued on, “I was wanting to know what training you have had to become my personal guards.”

One of the men, Rothen, squeaked out an answer before the nation could yell at them again, “Sir, we’ve been in basic security training to get our certified licenses.”

“That won’t do for me!” Germany cried, “If you dummköpfe think you can protect a seasoned solider such as I with your useless training methods, you are mistaken!”

The three degraded body guards couldn’t even defend themselves, for they were too petrified to move as a dark aura emerged from the slightly upset German.

“We will begin training at exactly 04:30 hours, not a single second after. If you are late, I will see to it that we run laps until the sun come up then goes down!” German watched as the three men came to their senses, before saluting and calling out a “yes sir!”

Germany smirked, this is going to be so much more fun than training those two idioten.

* * *

Canada shyly waited for his body guards to find him, again. He couldn’t help but think that this was the third time this has happened…today. He sighed as one of his guards walked past him once more, calling his name. He felt bad for causing his guards so much trouble, but he didn’t know what to do about it since no one notices him in the first place.

“Um, I’m going to go over there, eh?” He asked his guards, knowing they probably won’t notice his quiet voice. He shuffled to the bench, gently sitting his maple leaf backpack next to him.

“What I’m I going to do about this?” Matthew continued to ask aloud. “I feel really bad for making my guards worry so much.” He observed the small town around him. He just wanted to go for a walk and pick up some snacks. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently.

As the Canadian continued to mope, he noticed a sign _, Rhéo Thompson_. Canada’s eyes widened as he realized what he could do for them.

Walking out of the store, Matthew Williams held a few bags that contained carefully wrapped candies, jellies, and chocolates. He sat down on the bench once more, waiting for his bodyguards to finally realize he basically never left them.

Maya, one of the veteran guards, noticed him first, and she quickly voiced such in her radio before jogging over to the shy blond.

“Matthew! We were so worried about you! Where did you go?” She began to ask more question, and Canada tried to answer them to the best of his ability. He kind of felt like he was a toddler getting scolded for wondering off in a shopping center.

By the time the other guards arrived, all sweaty and worried faced, the pitiful women finally ceased her interrogation. The other guards looked at Matthew like a mystical creature, which isn’t actually too far from the truth. He smiled sheepishly before looking them in the eyes.

“I-I’m sorry that I disappeared again,” Canada whispered, “But, I got you some treats, eh. Some Rhéo Thompson candies, they’re some of my favourites.”

The guards, Maya, John, and Kris smiled warmly. Watching after the world’s most unnoticeable nation may be hard, but they all appreciate their little country in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this and want me to write something specific, don't be afraid to ask : )  
> I'm chill with any ship, but I don't write smut. Maybe some heavish things, but that's as far as I'll go.


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